“Say”—Parker reaches behind his chair for the kitchen island and plucks up two gluten-free cupcakes Sarah sent, then turns and sets them in front of me—“why don’t you go offer Sky and Rooney some dessert?” Fueled by that twisty, sore ache beneath my ribs, I snatch up the cupcakes and walk the length of the table to where Rooney and Skyler sit, heads together, bent over a piece of paper.
